Objects In The Mirror
by Morithil
Summary: Set during the Matrix through to Revolutions. A set of vignettes in which Trinity, Neo, Morpheus and Smith recount moments in the Matrix which marked turning points in their lives.
1. Closer

Everything in the Matrix trilogy belongs to the Wachowski Brothers. I'm just ad libbing.

Morithil.

OBJECTS IN THE MIRROR 

**. I .**

CLOSER 

Objects in the mirror are always closer than they appear.

Trinity half smiled quietly to herself. That was the epitaph always printed on those clear stickers that you got on the mirrors of new cars, sometimes bikes.

She was tensed on top of a bike at this moment. She had pulled up outside the government building where they'd taken him. Oh Neo, she thought absently, why didn't you just get on that platform like Morpheus had told you to? I would have been there to meet you at the foot of the building, back on ground level. You would have made it.

She could only imagine what the interrogation had been like. Based on the rumours and facts that all rebels had heard, she didn't want to dwell on the thought.

Focus, Trinity.

The doors swung open and there he was, looking dishevelled and not a little dazed, the effects of the interrogation plastered all over his ashen face. He looked pale, alarmed and as the agents strong-armed him to the waiting car, almost childlike, naïvety shining out from those big brown eyes.

Yes, she liked watching him. She wasn't sure it would be possible to grow tired of watching him. 

The thick shock of dark hair, that tall, slightly awkward figure made so because of the ill-fitting suit he had reluctantly worn to the job he hated that morning. If ever there was a hacker completely disenchanted with his life and the world around him, it was Neo. Sometimes while she was monitoring his movements he'd get that vague, faraway look in his eyes, searching for something he didn't know the name of. More than Morpheus. More than the truth. Perhaps he was lonely. She'd never seen him in company unless at work or extracurricular business with less than savoury clients. She'd been the same, except she had masked her feelings with an expression of silent cynicism and feigned ignorance of the world around her. Perhaps Neo was lonely.

Listen to yourself, Trinity. You're beginning to sound like a romantic. What would Switch say? You'd never hear the end of it. Trinity? A romantic? The only things she ever shows affection for are the mention of Zion and those goddamn bikes she's hooked on riding.

Nothing like a powerful engine and the open road.

Trinity stiffened slightly as the doors to the car were opened, and clumsily, the agents began to force Neo inside, pushing his head down to fit his tall frame inside the vehicle. One of them stopped.

She assumed he was the superior of the group of sentient programmes, judging this only by the fact that he wasn't assisting the others in cramming Neo into the sedan, and the grimly authoritative stature he commanded. The agent stopped before the car and his head turned smoothly, like well oiled mechanism towards where she was parked, her back to him. 

His face in the small side mirror of the bike.

She paused for a moment, studying the reflection in the circular mirror. Afterwards, she would berate herself for allowing the notion to come into her head, but somehow a small part of her remained convinced it was true.

Something had passed between them, her and the agent, in that single look. Staring at his reflection she saw the dull, hard truth. She saw a machine, a programme, designed to bring down what was left of humanity with a faint idea of satisfaction. Trinity saw a form of intelligence that was as deadly as it was remarkable. Yet - in that look the agent had thrown her, there had been a glimpse of a promise. As long as there were machines humans would be hunted. As long as there were machines humans would prevail against them. The battle was far from over, but there was light at the end of that distant tunnel. All this and more Trinity felt echo in her brain as if the agent had spoken the words out loud. Somehow he had promised that Neo too would be fine, although this went hand in hand with the resolution that this agent would stop at nothing to bring him down.

Morpheus believes Neo is the One. He needs my help, Trinity thought, and my help is what he'll get.

That look had bizarrely brought them closer. Maybe both sides of this war were struggling. When he remained gazing at her, she cursed her slowness and flicked up the stand to pull away, the engine beneath her starting with a comforting growl.

He stared with an empty expression, but behind those dark glasses Trinity could feel the electronic connections in his system firing up and glaring at her as if he knew exactly what she was up to.

Goddammit, he knew.

"Shit".

She rode off, having been nearer to an agent than she'd ever wanted to be, the marketed phrase running through her head as she left the scene. No amount of, "Focus, Trinity"s were going to get rid of it for a while. 

Objects in the mirror are always closer than they appear.

********


	2. Through The Looking Glass

Many thanks to my first reviewers: 

Centaur -Your Trinity fic is amazing. I'm really glad you like Objects In The Mirror so far.

Origami Flower-Thanks for your review! Anything you have to say is constructive!

star-Thanks for saying this fic is great. Much appreciate any future comments.

Update as promised,

Morithil.

**.II.**

**THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS**

This all feels like a dream.

I've found Morpheus. The person I've been looking for all this time, and yet I can't stop thinking about someone else. 

Her. Trinity.

_The_ Trinity. The hacker who cracked the IRSD base. Jesus, I'd said then, in that club with the throbbing music and the blinding contrast between the dark shadows and the garish strobe lighting.

Not unlike her, the pale white skin of her neck and shoulders milky against the black PVC corset she'd been wearing. She was the one on my computer that night. I still have no idea how she did that. I'm not sure I want to find out, in case it makes the rest of these crazy events even more fantastic than they already are. 

She's beautiful. It's becoming hard not to look at her. Her face is so striking and those eyes are so clear. She's notorious in _our_ circles. Something of a legend.

_The_ Trinity.

I just thought she was a guy, that's all. And now she probably thinks I'm just like all the other guys, assuming that because Trinity the hacker did some pretty amazing work, that Trinity the person is a guy.

Yet I don't feel like all the other guys right now.

This-day, these last few hours, minutes have become surreal. I don't know what to expect, I just allowed myself to be led to this chair. There are computers, connections to the internet set up in this dark, decaying room.

Morpheus said the pill was part of a trace programme. I know the definition of those words, but put together and used in that context I can't figure out what they mean. Trinity begins attaches these wires to me which end in sticky, circular pads. She looks like someone who knows what she's doing and it calmed me down, if only a little.

"You did all this?"

"Mm-hm".

She was being modest.

Morpheus is talking to me again. Something about dreams that seem convincingly real. I'm not sure if it's okay to quote him, but I know exactly what he means. The man he called Apoc glanced over the tops of the monitors he'd been studying, and looked at me. Briefly, but enough to make me even more uncomfortable.

What is happening?

Something distracts me from the closeness of her leaning over me, and I realise that she's standing a small distance away. 

Then, it's as if something, some small voice called my name.

I glanced at the mirror. I could've sworn it moved. There, there it was again, the cracks fusing together and suddenly the broken panes are perfect and flawless again.

I reached out nervously. I was curious.

The glass _stretched_ at my touch, coating the tops of my fingers. I could hear Morpheus' voice but the liquid glass kept moving and travelling further up my arm. God, but its cold. So cold. The hairs on my skin are rising at the icy wave. Its getting closer, getting closer to my neck. There are voices, people in the room are saying things but I can't make out the words.

What's happening to me? Trinity where are you, what's happening to me what-

Oh God its so cold - its going to spill inside me, it's rising up my face and going for my throat I can't help it I'm opening my mouth to scream and it slips right in-

********

I've woken up in hell.

There are cables. Thick, black, ringed cables jutting out of my body in some sort of pattern. There's this horrible pink, jelly like substance all around me. I have to get out of here, wherever here is.

I can't breathe. There's something closing my nostrils and reaching down my throat.

That's it. Push upwards. Please let me out-

I breach the surface and the air is cold. I've got to get these-these things out of me. The one in my nose is first. Pulling it out makes me want to vomit and my stomach obeys my wish. God, where am I?

What is that? That strange feeling in the back of my head? What-

I shouldn't have reached behind and felt it. I felt the cable end in the base of my skull, fixed into some metal bolt or node or something, I don't know what it was.

I looked around and for the second time I think I've woken up in hell.

There are thousands of-no, millions of other people, lying in the same pod-like chambers as I am, as if they're sleeping. No, as if they're dead.

That alien looking machine drones up to me suddenly and grabs me round my neck. I struggle but its made of metal (is that possible? It hovers like a giant bee) and its grip is so tight I can't do anything. The cables pop out of my body and I feel myself going limp as a rag doll, letting my eyes roll back into my head as I'm washed away, away out of this dark place and into a sea of water and numbness.

Make it go away, make it go away.

That's when the crane reaches down and lifts me slowly up towards a rectangle of light. My eyes hurt. I can't move.

This feels like a dream.

I want to wake up.


	3. The Path

Everything in the Matrix trilogy belongs to the Wachowski Brothers. I'm just ad libbing.

Morithil.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **The following 2 vignettes are set sometimes during Reloaded. Thanks to all for your comments and helpful criticism,

Morithil.

**.III.**

**THE PATH**

We've done it, Trinity. We've found him.

It seems egotistical, a little too self-praising, but I cannot help it. The words I spoke then echo in my mind as fresh as the moment I first uttered them.

He is the One.

There is no doubt in my mind now. I can only see the back of him, but his reflection is evident in the mirror behind the programme Persephone.

He walks the path for all of us now.

His expression is neutral, his eyes shielded by dark glasses. He is so confident now, so comfortable in his abilities within the Matrix. It is small wonder then, that more are beginning to believe as I do; that this war is drawing to an end, our struggle nears its final days. I had spent my life searching for him, and now he has surpassed even my hopes for everything I expected the One could and should be.

He sees more now than even I can, he is able to detect differences in the codes of the Matrix, sense things before they happen. Neo has grown so much, and I cannot help but swell slightly with a feeling almost akin to pride at his gradual surfacing and the development of his powers.

He remains respectful.

Even though he is worlds beyond me, he follows behind as I walk, keeping in step with Trinity and keeping a step behind me, as if he still wishes to continue as my example demonstrates. Incredible. Neo, you know the path, perhaps better than I do, and still you seem content to give all the impressionable authority to me.

I may be your captain, but I am not your superior.

If I lead wherever we go, it is only to pave the way for you, though it seems such introductions are unnecessary when a figure as notorious as you is abroad in the Matrix. Your path lies behind you, and it has brought you here, to perhaps the height of your powers.

The Merovingian may patronise and see fit to disregard your powers, but I do not. If he underestimates you, it is only to our advantage. I trust in you to remain true to what you believe in, for there is nothing feasible I can see that you have cause to fear besides the fate mapped out for the rest of the human race.

Your face was ashen, and your breathing laboured when you emerged from your battle with the Smiths. He is strong now, and I will be the first to say that I did not foresee his return to the Matrix after you destroyed him. But I watched you. I watched you fight each of them off, sometimes several at a time, and then I knew.

I knew you were capable of dealing with him. I stopped worrying.

Whatever his intentions are now, I am confident in you. I believe that you will be ready for him, should you meet again, and when that time comes, you will emerge victorious.

If I have to restrain Trinity from unloading her gun into Persephone's head, so be it. Now, there, I have done so. I do not question your relationship with her, as it is as obvious as Persephone herself has pointed out. She loves you. You love her. I do not know what this means, but I know one thing. Trinity has given you something more personal; something more intimate to fight for, and this can only be a good thing.

I know the path, but it is you who walk it. I cannot advise you beyond my own instincts and experience, it is you who must make your own choices.

Now, to get to the Keymaker. Another thing you have made happen.

I only know the path, but it is you who walks it.

You are the One. Your path can only lead to greatness.


	4. Sleeping Awake

Everything in the Matrix trilogy belongs to the Wachowski Brothers. I'm just ad libbing.

Morithil.

**.IV.**

**SLEEPING AWAKE**

"Is he here?"

Yes, he's here, Ballard. He's been here since last night, but I'm sure you want to be spared the details.

I was right. The Oracle did call.

Sometimes I think of what my life was before he came into it, and I find it blurred and difficult to recall. It seems a haze. When she told me that the man I loved would be the One, it was a responsibility. A calling, almost. I rejected it, refused to believe that my feelings for anyone could amount to any significance in the war we've been fighting for a hundred years. As if emotion had any leverage in this battle. The only importance it has is that it is what differs us from machines. It makes us human. I used to believe that it made us vulnerable, but then Morpheus was my only real point of reference in terms of a strong male figure in my life. And Morpheus can block out anything. His mental battle in that government building is testament to that. I'm his second in command, and I take orders only from him. Apoc I respected, Cypher-we know what I thought of Cypher, but Morpheus I followed. So when the Oracle told me what she did, I disregarded her words, though I didn't forget them.

Now it feels like an illusion, you always being here, but I don't worry about you being gone, because you always come back. I don't need to dream anymore, because you've made so many of the things I hoped for a reality. It's like sleeping awake, only, unlike the Matrix, I know this is real.

But then she tells you exactly what you need to hear at that moment, doesn't she? She changes everything, isn't that you what you said, Neo? And she did. 

I can be strong for him. I can be strong for Neo.

I've always been strong. This doesn't change things. Nothing will change what I have for him. If the situation worsens, and the machines close in on Zion, I will do what I have to in order to help him. 

I can count the hours we have left in Zion on my hands, but it doesn't matter. I count myself lucky to know him, to be close to him.

Yes, it's because I love him. And no, it doesn't make me vulnerable. It makes me stronger. Some things change, it seems. Others remain the same, as Morpheus would say. Is that too enigmatic? To vague for me to be saying? I never believed in the One before, but that changed. I never attached myself to anyone, and now Ballard's come to my rooms because he assumes that Neo is here, and he'd be right.

He is here. 

And I know he hasn't been sleeping so well.

I don't know what keeps him awake.. He says they're just dreams. If they're just dreams, why worry so much? He gets that look on his pale face, that tense, uneasy look and he knows I can see it. And still he won't tell me, but it's okay. Silence I can handle.

One of these days I'm going to ask him to take me up with him when he flies. It sounds stupid, and probably is, but one speed freak to another, I'd like to experience the sensation. Now, if they had bikes in Zion, then I'd be hard pressed to leave. And I'm getting off the point. The thing is, I want to be there, with him. I want to share everything, because there's no way I'm backing off now. I know he senses things I can't, but I can sense his reactions to whatever he notices that no one else does. I can feel his fear, his anticipation.

I can tell when he's missed me. That much is obvious enough, but it's quite something. 

I woke up again and he was gone. I didn't worry, just wondered. It's almost as if I was expecting him to not be there. Those dreams are still bothering him, so much now that I'm beginning to think he's losing sleep, not just continually waking up during the night.

Sleeping awake, that's what it is.

From time to time he adopts that isolated expression that he first had when I started watching him. As if he's alone in some dream. I want to tell him that he's not, but I'm not that good at expressing things, especially emotions. It took me long enough to admit to myself that I loved him, let alone admit it to him.

I know I won't be getting any sleep in the hours to come.

I kiss him before he gets jacked in. Just for reassurance. To let him know I'll be there, watching.

I'll stay awake.


	5. You Know You're Right

Everything in the Matrix trilogy belongs to the Wachowski Brothers. I'm just ad libbing.

The following vignettes are set during Revolutions; **beware,** **MAJOR plot spoilers ahead (for those who haven't seen it yet)**

Morithil.

**.V.**

YOU KNOW YOU'RE RIGHT 

I have fought against it, but it remains.

"If you cannot stop him tonight, then I fear tomorrow may never come".

I can feel the truth in those words already, as the blunt pain shoots through my entire body. At least, that's what it feels like.

Trinity.

She's gone. She's gone and I can't see her anymore. I couldn't see her before she left me, all I could do was fumble in the darkness for her face and kiss her because she asked me too. Before the end came.

There's a gaping hole in my chest and it's not from his latest assault. I can barely think of what I'm doing right now, even at this crucial moment. All I can think about is her, how I couldn't do anything but sob over her because the words failed me. It feels like I'm going through the motions, just running through a set pattern of moves, reactions, reflexes because I know more than anyone that I can barely feel anything besides when he moves.

I won't fail.

She said I showed her so much before the end. God, Trin, I couldn't even see if you were crying like I was. You were probably calm. Your voice sounded calm, even in the last few- God, I can't say it, let alone think it. You've always been there, been strong for me. I can't be strong without you, but you told me I could, and now I see.

I have to. Because I know that you'd do the same, you'd give your life for what you believed in-you already have. Twice. That I couldn't see you is unbearable. I can still picture you, in my mind's eye, images of you before everything went dark. Your clear gaze, your black hair on your pale skin, as pale as mine. The line of your mouth when you focus all of your concentration on one thing. That rare smile. The determination to never let on more than you feel is allowed for a fighter. You are a fighter, Trin, and - I said 'are'. I can't use the past tense without wincing. I can't block you out when you've been so near.

And now all I can see is him.

Rain drenched and sometimes undetectable in the lashing water and darkness, I can see him. The last thing I saw before he took my eyes was his face, burning like a furious ember in the darkness around me. Like a demon from some hellish nightmare, I saw him bare his teeth and smile.

Pain.

Trin, it hurts. It hurts so much. I saw you; saw you when he pressed the weapon to your throat. You'd been so brave, so tough. The cuts were deep, and the blood running down his face was proof of the fight you put up before I even realised that something was wrong on the Logos.

But you can't beat him. Only I can, and right now that seems a distant possibility.

It felt good, a relief when I swung at him and that grinning, molten vision exploded into flickering sparks and ashes. He said he would find me again. This time, though, it's me who's gone to him. He didn't need to look. All he had to do was wait.

He's been expecting me.

I can't stand straight, that's the punishment I've endured from his fists. I can feel the mud beneath me sink around my shoes, but I have to stand firm. The Oracle said that he was me. We're opposites, the result of the equation trying to balance itself out. At this moment he has the upper hand.

He never tires.

He never feels remorse.

He never stops.

All he feels, it seems, is fury and vengeance, the desire to control. It sounds strange in my head, saying that _he_ can feel, but it's the truth. He's running on pure ego and power.

I hate it but I know him. I know the workings of the artificial intelligence. I partly know him because I partly know myself.

He is me.

Time after time I've gotten up, scrambled up from the mud and milky puddles, to face him again. I've been crawling in the mud, crawling away from him for what feels like days. He can't understand why, so I explain to him. It's only right to do that.

"Because I choose to".

Choice. It's all about choice.

Now we're facing each other again, and the eyes of the copies are boring holes in my already aching back. He's strong now. Stronger than both worlds can control. Stronger than me? Perhaps. We're not quite equals anymore.

So it's come to this.

Resignation takes over. I know it shouldn't but it has. There's a quiet, stillness and all I can hear is the rain falling and my own breathing. All I can see is darkness, and looking at the grimly triumphant face in front of me I see death. I haven't failed, this isn't failing. This is realisation, allowing what has to happen to happen.

I have to tell him.

I have to tell him before it's too late.

It's wrong but there's a dead calm inside me right now. Acceptance. A silence I'm guessing is peace. I owe it to him now, after all we've experienced, both of us, because we've both walked our own paths and each time they've crossed it's made us stronger.

I should tell him, tell him now, because he is my enemy, and an empty victory is not something I would want for myself. I know the truth, and he needs to know that I've been aware of it, perhaps for longer than I think. Because he is my enemy, he should know that I know, _I know_ that he's fought and overcome obstacles as I have, he's broken free of the constricting nature of his being, as I have. He's defied the rules, as I've done. 

He is me, and in the end you can't completely hate yourself.

I know my enemy.

Aside from Trinity, he's been the one true constant in my life since I was freed. This is the end of a strange dance, the partnership of rivalry.

I feel him taking me over, molecule by molecule. We're joined now, and I don't need to see to know his hand is in my chest and time is escaping me.

I don't hate him. 

Now I wonder if it's respect I have for him. For struggling, for taking over what he has surpassed. I doubt it. But maybe it is acceptance. I tell him what's become the truth I've fought against.

"You're right, Smith. You're always right".

There's an odd look on his face. It's acceptance. Hearing me admit this is like a valediction. I think that's - that's almost sadness in his eyes as if the end, though inevitable, has some significance. I have some significance to him. I understand now, the strange ecstasy of death, the release. He's always been right, from the very beginning. He's come back for me, come after me every time. It's the chase, the fighting. He's been singular in his purpose, as I've only just become. He's been following that one purpose for longer than I have mine.

And he's been fulfilling it alone.

When you've thrown down your enemy, what is there left to fight against? Now I know why there's that minutely sad look behind the blue eyes of a machine.

Letting go is harder than I thought. Ending is stranger than either of us knows.

"It was inevitable".

It'll all be over soon. He told me that once, didn't you Smith? I resisted it then, but now I see. We are opposites, and I'm letting you have the last word.

The darkness is spreading.

Something seizes in my chest.

Black.

You know you're right, Smith. I just thought you should hear it from me.

It's rising now, spreading faster. I would have liked to have said goodbye, as he's said to me each time. My name is Neo, and I know how this ends. He watches me, so I lift my gaze again to his. The blackness is all around me. 

Trinity, help-


End file.
